


Softly in the Daylight

by Elfgrunge



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Amnesia, But only briefly!!, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, IT TOOK 2 HOURS BUT THE 2 WERE FROM HALF MIDNIGHT TO HALF TWO SO I THINK THAT'S FAIR, It's mostly them being bad at emotions, Kinda?, M/M, Marto go crushed by a building okay, but he's fine, i wrote this in one sitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 01:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfgrunge/pseuds/Elfgrunge
Summary: ‘It’s okay, really,’ he reached a hand up to cradle half of Jon’s face, thumb gently attempting to wipe away some of the tears, ‘I’m okay, dear.’Jon found himself leaning into the touch slightly, before jerking back. ‘What?’ He kept both his hands on Martin’s.Martin slackened his grip and Jon let him go, adjusting himself properly in the hospital bed. ‘I- I’m sorry are you - I presumed - Are you not my boyfriend?’





	Softly in the Daylight

Jon was not used to sitting in hospital rooms. Hadn’t been in one, since his grandmother passed, and that was swift and didn’t require a lot of lingering under harsh lighting and on hard plastic seats. Which was what he was doing now. 

Martin was breathing softly on the bed next to him, chest rising and falling gently under the layers of blankets. It was good, he supposed. More hopeful than what he’d left Martin with when the roles were reversed over a year ago. 

Machines beeped slowly around them, and Jon tried to focus in on the noise. It would be easy, to get sucked in, dragged into the whirlpool of other people's emotions that clouded around them in other rooms, clusters of grief and joy and pain that he could so easily Know. All the better if they were there by unnatural means. 

He didn’t want to, though. He was here for himself. Well, here for Martin. He wanted his own emotions, painful as they were, to be the ones front and centre. 

The bandage around Martin’s head was clean, soft white cotton wrapping tight around a wound, in a way that reminded him worryingly of a web, tight around prey. He tried not to linger on the image, or what it might entail. 

The machine kicked up, noise emitting faster before regulating back down to a steady beep, and Jon leant forward hopefully. 

Pale eyelashes fluttered, sunlight filtering in and sparking against blue-green eyes that squinted in it, until a hand came up to fend it off.

The same hand that now, as the head turned to the side, reached up to grasp Jon’s. 

He made a soft noise, but clutched it back, other hand rising to meet them and hold on tight. 

‘Martin,’ he whispered tentatively. 

Martin gave a soft smile, eyes still half closed and scrunched up at the corners. ‘Hi.’ 

‘You’re all right… God you’re all right. I was so worried, after the Institute came down I thought... They couldn’t find you, and I thought Peter had... That he’d managed to take you with him…’ Jon realised he was crying at this point, tears flowing in messy tracks down from eyes that hadn’t seen nearly enough sleep.

‘It’s okay, really,’ he reached a hand up to cradle half of Jon’s face, thumb gently attempting to wipe away some of the tears, ‘I’m okay, dear.’ 

Jon found himself leaning into the touch slightly, before jerking back. ‘What?’ He kept both his hands on Martin’s.

Martin slackened his grip and Jon let him go, adjusting himself properly in the hospital bed. ‘I- I’m sorry are you - I presumed - Are you not my boyfriend?’ 

Jon made a choking sound. ‘What?’ He leaned forward again, concern etched on his face. ‘Martin do you not - Do you know who I am?’ 

Martin was rather red at this point, which Jon absently thought might not be good considering the head wound and all. ‘I - Uh - No. No I don’t. I’m sorry. I know that I trust you and I thought - What with the, the crying and all that you were… Sorry.’ 

Jon waved a hand. ‘That doesn’t - That’s- Don’t worry about it. I’ll go.. Get a doctor,’ he said, rising from his seat. ‘Stay put?’ he said, despite the fact that Martin couldn’t exactly leave, IVs tethering him to the bed frame. He shrugged meekly. 

* * *

Short term amnesia, as caused by a head trauma. Nothing severe, would wear off over time, quite light considering a building had fallen on him, the doctor had said. 

It meant another week before Martin could leave, walking out of the hospital with a cane, but finally dressed in one of his normal assortment of knits, a soft jumper or cardigan that Jon was glad to see in contrast to the bleak hospital gowns. 

Daisy picked them up, Jon having gone in to meet him for the short walk back to the car. The ride back to Martin’s was mostly quiet, all three still exhausted from the fallout of the stopping of the Lonely’s ritual. Martin did remember it, in the end, in bits and pieces. ‘Foggy’ he’d described the memory as, irony as thick as anger on his tongue as he clutched at the memory of Peter Lukas’s final moments. Jon hadn’t asked anymore, after that. 

‘You not want a lift back too?’ Daisy asked, leaning out the window as Jon stepped out of the car.

‘Hm? No, I’ll be fine on the tube, I’ll just go in to make sure he gets settled okay. You head home, check on Basira.’ Daisy nodded once before driving off. 

He followed Martin up to his flat. Martin chuckled softly when Jon tried to hold a door open for him. ‘It’s just a limp Jon, I’m not made of porcelain. You don’t have to fret over me so much.’ 

‘I suppose it’s payback, then,’ Jon said, tone entirely monotone but mouth playing at a smile. 

Martin did laugh at that. ‘Fair enough.’ 

When they finally reached his apartment, Martin pulls an awkward face. ‘Sorry if it’s a bit of a mess, I did go home, most of the time, before…’ a hand wave, ‘All of that. But there wasn’t much time to clean between being..’ 

‘Messenger boy for a fear god?’ Jon supplied.

Martin laughed. ‘Yeah, that.’

He managed to wrangle the door open eventually, stepping inside and gesturing Jon after him. He tried not to linger in the hallway, spend any time thinking about the last avatar that stood outside Martin’s door. 

‘Tea?’ Martin offered, and Jon accepted before he could realise that meant Martin walking about more. 

‘I’ll do it, you sit,’ he said, making his way over to the small kitchen area. He put the kettle on easy enough, then stilled.

Martin snorted behind him. ‘You need some help there?’ 

‘I- Uh- Cups. Where are.. Where are the cups?’ Jon asked, somewhat embarrassed. 

Eventually they got into a flow, Martin finding the required items and Jon assembling them until they had two cups of tea to sit on Martin’s battered sofa with. 

‘Will you be okay?’ he asked, eventually, ‘When I go.’

Martin nodded. ‘I told you, I’m fine.’ 

‘Besides the amnesia,’ Jon quipped back. 

Martin raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m all better, doc said. I remember it all now - or - well - most of it.’ He tapped his head, avoiding where a large plaster still hugged the side of his skull. ‘I know who you all are.’ 

Jon chuckled slightly, lowering his head. ‘Quite.’ 

There was a pause, before he spoke again. ‘What did you mean, when you woke up?’ 

‘Hm?’ 

‘When you - When you first came to, in the hospital. You thought I was your… _What did you mean?_ ’ And Jon didn’t _mean_ to compel, didn’t really, fully, truly, but one who’d been so close to donning the Watcher’s Crown could never really ask with such conviction and not expect slim threads of persuasion to weave their way through the words. 

‘Oh!’ Martin flushed red again, eyes turned away, suddenly finding his own dining chairs incredibly interesting. ‘Yes, I uh, suppose I did say that. I didn’t know who you were so I just kind of - Assumed. You were there, and, well, you wake up with a fuzzy head and a gorgeous man crying over you and you kind of want to presume the best don’t you. “Eldritch Co-Worker” isn’t usually the first assumption on most people's lists. No ring so... Yeah.’ 

Jon’s voice hitched slightly, ‘Did you just call me-’ 

‘Oh, god, yes, I - uh - sorry I don’t… Know why I said that _god.’_

‘No, no, don’t - don’t apologise, that might not have been entirely you. There may have been a- a touch of Archivist, in that question. Sorry.’ 

Martin gave a mirthless, self conscious laugh. ‘Well, that just means it was me then, doesn’t it. Can’t lie to the Eye. Hah. Still creepy of me.’

Jon paused, steeling his nerve before saying, ‘I didn’t… I don’t _mind_ . I suppose I’m.. _Flattered_? Martin I know- I know there were some… Feelings, left unsaid, before all of this. Before the Lonely, before my coma, before the Unknowing… I didn’t know it then, too tied up in conspiracies and convoluted plans and the like. But I suppose I’ve had time. More time than I’d like, really, to reflect on that and - Well, Martin, if they’re still… Present, on your side, I’d rather like to do something about them.’ 

A soft response. ‘What..?’ 

Jon made a frustrated, awkward noise. ‘Martin what I’m saying, trying to say is, I’m in love with you. Ah-and if you’d allow me to be your _real_ boyfriend and not just your amnesia one, well, that would make me incredibly happy.’ The sincerity in his voice was palpable, painful in his chest and his words choked on it.

Martin looked like time had frozen around him, eyes wide and unblinking, now turned back to meet Jon’s, jumper still smelling faintly of whatever floral fragrance Basira had chucked it in. ‘Yes,’ he said, words so light they were barely a whisper, nearly catching in his throat. Jon gently took his hand. ‘Yes Jon, I - Yes. I’d like that very much.’ 

Jon leaned up, one short, soft kiss pressed to lips that still smiled in disbelief and wonder. 

‘I love you too,’ Martin said, tentatively running a hand through the other man’s hair. 

Jon curled up next to him, burying himself against Martin’s side. ‘Now _please_ , try and make sure you never end up in like that again?’ 

Martin laughed, leaning down to press another kiss to the top of Jon’s head. ‘Awh, but then I wouldn’t get to have my gorgeous boyfriend be the first thing I see.’ 

It was Jon’s turn to flush this time. ‘Shut up….. I’m sure you can do that anyway.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm Tal and it's 3am why did I write this in one sitting dear god. Titles are the fuckin worst I haven't even got one when I'm writing this. I could leave it til morning. But I won't. Got possessed by love for these two and HAD to bang out 1600 words at all hours of the morning. Christ.
> 
> Anyway I'm elfgrunge on twitter and radiosandrecordings on tumblr and I slave away at the fic mill for comments


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